Shave Your Bloody Beard!
by FrUK Seasons
Summary: Just another dreary day in England, or, so Arthur thought. But right when he'd begun consuming himself in thought, he gains a rather... Unwelcome guest.


Today had been a rather uneventful day in my opinion. Yes, I had attended a world meeting, but as usual absolutely nothing had been accomplished. Well, maybe not nothing... A whole lot of yelling had gone on, as well as Francis picking on me throughout the entire morning. It irks me how he always sits beside me just so he can throw an insult at me whenever he sees fit. And to add to the lovely mix, America had succeeded in boring me to the point of insanity with his constant blabbing; I guess that's something. Sighing, I shook my head in disapproval.

"Oh America..." I muttered under my breath, feeling a small pang of regret nip at my heart before disappearing along with my melancholy thoughts, as I'd readily shoved them aside. Being alone with nothing to do could surely make one feel depressed. Left to reflect on the past, where sorrowful memories lay buried like seashells on the beach, easily uncovered by the ocean's tide.

"It's over now... No need to dwell on something that can never be undone."

Even though there was no one there to hear me, for some reason it felt comforting just to hear a voice, even if it was my own. Getting off the couch I had been sitting on, I made my way to the kitchen, having decided to make some tea. That always seemed to cheer me up. Filling the kettle with water, I soon enough had it onto the stove over a lit burner. Now I just had to wait for the water to boil as I already had a cup out and a tea-bag ready, as well as the sugar. I'd get the milk once it was needed. I hummed softly as I looked around the room, my gaze drawing a halt when spotting the clock hanging on the wall.

"Five 'o two..."

Again I spoke to no one but the air. I was used to it though, as it had become a habit of mine back when I was a child. Being an island Country can leave you with no one to talk to but yourself and the occasional mythical creature that comes to visit when you're especially lonesome, more so when you don't reach out to anyone.

"Blissful isolation... The story of my life." I muttered with a certain bitterness accompanied by a sad chuckle. Lost in my own thoughts, I nearly cried out in surprise as the doorbell rang eerily throughout my house.

"Who could that be..? I don't normally get visiters..."

Sliding off the wooden chair I had been sitting upon, I made my way to the front door at a brisk pace. Walking through the corridors of my manor, I noted whoever had come had braved the rain as I could already hear the steady downpour of water pounding against the roof of my abode. Finally arriving to my destination, I quickly unlocked the lock and turned the knob, opening the door to whoever await outside of it. As soon as I saw who it was, I let a frown settle down on my face before, begrudgingly, greeting him.

"Oh... Hello Francis. Why are you here?"

The Frenchman gave a weak smile before dropping his feigned cheer altogether as a boom of thunder shook the house.

"I-I was wondering if maybe I could stay 'ere until ze storm passes..?"

His azure eyes held pleading, his tone verging on desperate.

"What, afraid of a little storm?~" I teased, snickering a bit in amusement. However, when he didn't retort or insult me, I knew that he really was shaken up. So France had a fear of thunder storms... I never would've guessed, although that might be why he likes to have me come to his house instead of vise versa. My Country receives a lot of storms... I really rather not let him in, but however much I hated to admit it, we were still friends despite our bickering. Looking over him briefly, I noted that he was quite the pitiful sight at the moment. His long blond locks hung limply on his head from being only half-dried. And his clothes, plastered to his body in some areas, looked just as poor. Examining him further, I could see he was trembling slightly.

"Ok, ok... You can stay. But, only until the storm leaves."

His lips curved upward into a relieved smile before I moved aside, allowing him entrance into my house.

"Merci Arthur... I don't know what I would've done if you 'ad said no..." He thanked me as I shut and locked the door, turning to begin heading back to my kitchen where I knew a certain kettle was well done boiling it's water.

"Well... Don't go thinking I'll be accepting you into my house every time a storm decides to hit." I warned him, glancing back to see he was following me at a rather close distance. Although, this time I knew it wasn't being done as a sexual advance; he was merely scared of the storm.

"What were you doing here anyways? Shouldn't you be in your own Country right about now?"

Now walking beside him, I saw his expression turn sheepish before he responded.

"I was actually coming to visit you... I 'ad wanted to apologize for today. You seemed especially annoyed with me, and it got me to zhinking... Maybe you were grouchy because no one's visited you for awhile, so I felt you deserved some company~"

I blinked, somewhat surprised by what he had said.

"Apologize..?"

My words came out rather quiet, hardly over a whisper. But, it seemed France had heard me nonetheless. Giving me a soft smile and a nod, he affirmed my question.

"Oui... I'm sorry Angleterre. S'il vous plaît, forgive me."

He cast a hopeful gaze in my direction, blue eyes searching mine. I remained silent for a moment, considering his words before giving in to my better side, deciding to relent and forgive him.

"Alright... Apology accepted,"

We entered my kitchen together right as the words left my mouth, and I rushed to turn the burner of my stove off before I could see his reaction.

"Would you like some tea?" I inquired, glancing over my shoulder at the Frenchman to see a smile on his face.

"But of course~" Was his near instant reply, and truly, I would've expected no less out of his mouth. With a nod of approval, I brought out another cup, placing tea bags into them before pouring in the scolding hot water.

"So we'll have to wait just a little while before I can add the sugar and milk, but it shouldn't take too-"

I was cut off abruptly as his arms wrapped around me from behind, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as they brushed against my ear.

"And, what should we do in ze meantime..?~ I 'ave a couple ideas..." He purred, breath warm against my skin. I could already feel my face growing hot in what could only be a flustered blush, but I wouldn't let this Frenchman get what he wanted. No way.

"Get off me you git! You had the audacity to apologize, butter me up perhaps, and now you think I'm just going to let you do whatever you want with me?!"

With a huff of anger, I scowled, pulling away from him.

"This is reality Francis, not one of your fobbish dreams." I added, turning to face him with a glare. He opened his mouth as if to reply before shutting it closed once more, his gaze lowering to the floor like a naughty puppy who'd just been scolded for chewing the furniture. Why did he always have to act like I was being cruel when I was merely trying to get him to respect my personal space? I could feel my expression change from an annoyed exasperation to one of sympathy; he had sparked some compassion in my heart. We had been friends since childhood... I suppose I'm closer to him than anyone else. So, I should've known he was playing me like a violin. But despite my better judgement, I attempted to cheer him up.

"Come now, chap... No need to look so glum... Just understand I don't appreciate that kind of treatment," I spoke with a softer tone, reaching out a hand hesitantly to place it on his shoulder. Watching him carefully, I saw his eyesbrows furrow and his lips purse as if just finding out his favorite meal was suddenly taken off the menu.

"Je ferais n'importe quoi..."

His words were whispered, and truely, I hadn't the faintest idea of what he'd even said. However, before left to ponder it too long, he spoke again, this time in English.

"Angleterre... I'll do anything to get just a moment of your cooperation."

Looking up at me, I was surprised to see how serious he looked. My hand retracted instantly as I swallowed nervously, unsure what exactly he planned to do.

"You're kidding, right..? Just joking with me..? Haha, real funny France..." I chuckled a little in hopes that he really was just messing with me, but his expression remained the same.

"Please don't tell me this is like that whole marriage incident..."

I took a step back, biting my bottom lip as I found I was backed up against the counter. Great, nowhere to run...

"Non, I won't force you. S'il vous plaît, I'll do anything..." He practically begged, sky blue eyes urging me to give him the answer he was looking for. Humming in thought, I considered his offer.

"Anything, huh..?" I Murmered to myself, and couldn't help but laugh a little afterwards. He had said 'a moment of my cooperation'. That didn't mean anything too bad, right? In the end, I'd be the winner here, as I could possibly make him do something humiliating; something he absolutely abhorred. Yes, we were friends, but a little payback was a welcomed thought. Bringing my gaze back to his face, I smiled a bit.

"Ok, I'll give you a moment of my time. But, my condition is if you allow me to shave of that bloody beard of yours~"

His look of dismay nearly made me grin, but I refrained from the action, settling instead on a smug smile. I could practically see the cogs churning in his brain as he tried to figure out which was more important. My affections, or his perfectly trimmed facial hair.

"C-can't you reconsider, Arthur..?"

He looked at me with a desperate look in his eyes, but I answered with a simple shake of my head.

"Nope. That's my one and only condition. Take it or leave it." I told him firmly, crossing my arms over my chest, eyes closing momentarily as I tried to hide my amusement. After a few more moments of silent consideration, he heaved a relenting sigh.

"Fine... Oui, you can shave off my beard..." He finally answered, the words escaping his lips snapping my eyes open in a flash. Had he actually just agreed to it..? Well, I guess I couldn't just back out now, especially after causing him so much stress.

"Ok then... I'll go get the razor~"

Leaving the kitchen for the bathroom, I returned to the room in a few minutes with a brand new razor held in my right hand. I approached the Frenchman, my lips curving into a devious smirk as I reached out and grabbed his collar with my left, his face paling a bit.

"Y-y'know... While you were gone, I reconsidered and I changed my mind... I mean, I finally got it at just ze right length so..."

He trailed off, seeing as my grip on him hadn't loosened. Scoffing at his poor attempt at backing out, I shook my head, dismissing his decision.

"Sorry Francis. A deal's a deal. Now, time to get rid of that damn facial hair of yours~" I chimed, razor nearing his face. Oh, revenge for centuries of insults was sweet.


End file.
